Breathe
by angstydaydreams
Summary: Written in response to a challenge on the GW Whump thread. Missing scene/rewrite from 38 Minutes.


Written for a challenge on the GW Whump thread: Rewrite a Shep Whump scene to make it better  
>Length: as long as needed<p>

This is a bit of a re-write/missing scene from the end of 38 Minutes.

Breathe

"One, two, three, four, five." Carson pressed the heel of his interlaced hands into John's chest. "Breathe ye bloody bastard. Come on," he muttered.

His nurse, Jenny, squeezed the ambu bag, forcing air into John's lungs. She glanced at the heart monitor and shook her head. "Still in V-Fib."

"Administer one milligram adrenaline I.V. push," Carson ordered, once again beginning chest compressions.

He could feel Elizabeth and Rodney's eyes boring into him as they hovered near the hatch door. Working in the cramped jumper's cockpit was proving to be difficult; there was room only for himself, one nurse, and a few pieces of medical equipment, but they'd had no time to lose when the jumper ascended into the jumper bay. By the time Teyla had pulled John into the deepfreeze of the event horizon, the stricken pilot had already been down for several minutes. If he didn't get Major Sheppard's heart started soon, even if he saved the major's life, brain damage would be inevitable.

"Adrenaline on board, Doctor," Jenny called out. Tossing the spent needle into a sharps container, she once again grabbed the ambu bag as Carson lifted his hands from their patient's chest. She fitted the mask firmly over John's face and gave the bag a hard squeeze.

"Let's shock him again," Carson ordered grimly. "Let's go to 360."

"360 jewels, Doctor," Jenny confirmed, setting the defibrillator.

"Clear!" Carson settled the paddles over the orange gel pads on his patient's chest and hit the discharge buttons.

John's body arched upwards before landing bonelessly on the jumper floor. Protocol called for three successive charges if rhythm was not restored. Carson watched as John's heart beat once, then twice, and then dissolved back into the chaos of electric impulses that characterized ventricular fibrillation. In essence, John's heart was quivering like a mold of jelly.

Jenny gave a hard shake of her head. "Still in V-Fib."

"Let's hit 'em again." Carson gripped the paddles, his blue eyes hard as stone. He didn't know the Major that well, but everything he'd seen so far told him the man was stubborn as hell. He was fighting. But Major Sheppard was going to need to fight harder if he was going to live.

"Clear!" Carson depressed the discharge buttons on the paddles. Again Major Sheppard's body convulsed, arcing helplessly into the air, falling heavily back to the floor as the electric shock released him from its grip.

"Come on, son," Carson muttered; his fingers tightened around the paddles as his eyes tracked the lines on the monitor. Valiantly, John's heart struggled to find a rhythm. But Carson could already tell it wasn't going to hold. He shook his head and reapplied the paddles to John's chest.

"Charging," Jenny responded to Carson's movements.

"Clear!" Carson said tersely, and for the third time in less than a minute, he sent 360 jewels of electricity coursing through his patient's body. Even as he watched the monitor for changes, he readied himself for another round of CPR. It was essential that basic life support never falter or they could lose John for good. As long as he remained in V-Fib, the major had a chance. If his rhythm fell into asystole, if his heart stopped moving altogether, the chances of survival dropped significantly.

Twining his fingers together, he positioned the heel of his hand over John's sternum. And then John's heart started to beat. One beat became two became three.

"That's right, laddie," Carson encouraged. "Keep it up. Come on, son. Keep fighting."

With one eye on the monitor, Carson reached up and placed his fingers on John's carotid artery.

"We have a normal sinus rhythm," Jenny smiled, tiredly tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I have a pulse," Carson grinned back. Pulling his stethoscope from around his neck, he settled the earpieces into his ears and pressed the bell of the instrument to John's chest. John's heart thrummed steadily. He was breathing on his own. He removed the stethoscope and looped it back around his neck.

"Pulse is getting stronger, Doctor," Jenny confirmed. "BP is 120 over 80."

He spared a glance back at Rodney and Elizabeth and said, "He's back."

As Rodney and Elizabeth sank onto the jumper's benches in relief, Carson sat back on his haunches and swiped at a bead of sweat trailing from his forehead. Conducting CPR and defibrillation was physically tasking work, and the protective rubber suit he wore was hot, uncomfortable and constrictive. He couldn't wait to get rid of it. He rolled his aching shoulder muscles and tried to stretch out the kinks in his back. Settling himself on his heels, he observed his patient.

John looked peaceful. If not for the oozing puncture wounds on his neck and angry red welts on his chest from the defibrillator, the casual observer might think he was simply sleeping. Carson probed gently at the puncture sites, relieved to see no sign that whatever venom the creature had injected into the pilot was necrotizing the flesh. Perhaps they'd get lucky and the aftereffects of the attack would be minimal.

Securing a bandage on the wound Carson called back to the orderlies waiting in the jumper bay, "Okay, let's get ready for transport, and Jenny, let's get Major Sheppard started on O2 by mask."

Just as Jenny was adjusting the straps on the oxygen mask, John's eyes flew open. Weakly he thrashed his head from side to side, gasping for breath.

"Major Sheppard!" Carson gripped John's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You're okay. The thing's gone. Do ye understand, son? Ye need to calm down."

Panic flashed through his patient's hazel eyes. "Can't…breathe…hurts" John gasped.

Carson glanced worriedly at the monitor, which was registering a notable increase in John's heart rate. The last thing John needed now was to go into tachycardia.

"Take it easy, lad," Carson soothed, resting one hand on John's chest. "Slow deep breaths, okay?" Without taking his eyes from his patient, he softly directed Jenny to increase the oxygen flow. He nodded at John encouragingly. "That's it. Nice and slow."

Finally the rapid staccato from the monitor began to level out and Carson smiled down at his patient. "Good job, son. Just keep taking slow deep breaths."

"It's…gone?" John rasped, his eyes almost fearfully darting around the cockpit.

"Dead," Carson nodded grimly. "You don't have to worry."

John's eyes fluttered closed. Carson heard the gurney clatter behind them and he edged out of the way to provide room for the orderlies to work.

Gently he squeezed John's shoulder. "Okay son, we're going to move you now. Let us do all the work, you understand?"

Eyes still closed, John nodded. Carson wasn't sure John could help if he tried; most likely the major was still suffering from the effects of the paralytic the bug had injected into his system. Within minutes they had John settled onto the gurney, quickly whisking him to the infirmary.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

John smiled flirtatiously at the blonde nurse. His body felt like it had gone twenty rounds with the Bears' Refrigerator Perry, but against all odds, he was alive, and so despite the sharp ache in his chest and the pain still reverberating through every muscle in his body, he felt euphoric, like he could get up out of bed and conquer Mt. Everest.

That is if it didn't feel like he was encased in lead. The paralysis was wearing off, but slowly, and when Carson had ordered him to squeeze his hand, he'd done so as feebly as if he were a ninety year old man. But still, he was alive, and so you wouldn't hear him complaining.

"Jenny, how's our patient?" Carson's Scottish brogue caused the nurse to break eye contact.

"Vitals are stable," Jenny smiled prettily at the doctor, and then cast a slightly reproving gaze down at her patient. "The patient removed his oxygen and now his SAT's are holding at ninety one on room air.

John took as deep a breath as he could manage and glared at the pulse ox clip on his finger as if it had personally betrayed him.

"Leave that alone, Major Sheppard," Carson said sternly. "And if your oxygen levels fall below ninety, the mask goes back on. You understand?"

"Yes Carson," John scowled, picking at the blanket with one finger.

"I know you're anxious to get out of here," Carson's gaze softened. "But I won't send you off only to have you collapse."

John shifted in his bed, wincing as the movement aggravated the pain in his muscles.

"The good news is, whatever toxin that bug pumped into you is clearing your system so I can start you on pain meds." Carson pulled a syringe from his lab coat pocket and prepped John's IV tubing for the injection. "This will make you pretty drowsy."

"Thanks Carson," John sighed as the meds almost immediately began to mask the pain. The room began to get fuzzy and he had to blink several times to bring Carson back into focus.

"Don't fight it, Major," Carson said. "Rest is the best thing for you."

"How's Ford?" John slurred.

"Already released," Carson assured his patient.

"Wanna see him…wanna see my team," John's eyes closed almost of their own volition and then popped back open again as he fought to remain conscious.

"I'll make you a deal, Major Sheppard," Carson set a hand on John's shoulder. "You sleep for a while and when you wake up, I'll let them in."

"Mmmm," John murmured, his eyes losing the battle to remain open.

Carson hovered a moment, listening to his patient breathe. Steady and even, though a bit shallow. More shallow than Carson liked. Shaking his head he fitted the plastic tubing of the nasal canula under John's nose, securing it around his ears and under his chin. He chuckled to himself. What John didn't know wouldn't hurt him, bloody stubborn bastard.

"I'll keep an eye on him, doctor," Jenny said softly, settling into a workstation halfway down the ward. She looked at Carson, her eyes somber. "Do you think most days in the Pegasus Galaxy are going to be like this one?"

"I don't know, luv," Carson gazed down at his sleeping patient. Before today he would have described their military commander as competent, approachable, affable, possessing a wicked sense of humor, if slightly grumpy when subjected to medical examinations. Now, he would add the words resilience, fortitude, natural leader, laser sharp under pressure. He glanced over at his nurse. "Whatever happens though, we're in good hands. Let me know immediately if anything changes in his condition."

"Yes Doctor," Jenny nodded.

Taking one last look at John, Carson turned and headed towards the waiting room to inform Elizabeth and John's team that the major was going to be just fine. They all were.

-Fin


End file.
